Of Errant Archaeologists and Secret Societies
by Brenna
Summary: Daniel goes missing...again. Now the question is who took him and why? Cross-over with Highlander. Spoilers now for "Moebius!
1. Chapter 1

Daniel pulled his car into his assigned space in the parking lot next to his apartment building. He grabbed the duffel back full of clothes and papers from the passenger seat and lifted it across the steering wheel as he got out of the car. It was close to midnight, and he was more than ready to fall into his bed for the six hours of sleep he'd promised himself before returning to base in the morning. He was trying to catch up on some of the translations that he'd fallen behind on while saving the planet. Again. Unwilling to wait for the slow and notoriously unreliable elevator, Daniel trudged up the stairs to his third floor apartment. He noticed the light was out in the hallway as he left the stairwell and made a mental note to call the management company in the morning to complain. The dark hall made it difficult for Daniel to fit the key first to the deadbolt and then to the lock in the door handle itself, but finally he managed to get the door open.

He flipped the light switch as he stepped into his apartment, but the light didn't come on. It was then that the alarm bells in his mind went off because he remembered replacing that light bulb just a week ago. _ 'Should have gotten that carry permit like Jack suggested,' _Daniel thought with the portion of his mind not occupied with the current situation. Knowing it would take an incredible amount of luck to reach the only weapons readily available to him, Daniel nevertheless dropped keys and bag to the floor as he surged into the apartment and towards the display of weapons hanging on the wall opposite his door. His hands closed around the hilt of one of his swords a split second before he felt someone grab him from behind. Daniel whirled around managing to throw his attacker off his back. Immediately he found both arms restrained, but Daniel still held the sword. He swung wildly towards the attacker holding his right arm and managed to connect with the flat of the blade. His right arm suddenly free, Daniel swung the heavy sword back on a return trajectory towards the man still attempting to hold onto his left arm. Just as the blade touched flesh, the man jumped back making what would have been a disabling blow into little more than a bloody gash. 

"Get out!" Daniel screamed as he swung once again with the sword only then realizing his mistake in grabbing the sword in the first place. Had he stepped back out of the apartment and back to the stairwell, he might well have gotten away. Now though, his three attackers were between him and the door. The sword drooped towards the ground as Daniel found it more and more difficult to hold the blade up. In fact, it was becoming increasingly difficult just to remain standing. Only then did his mind register the syringe in one of the men's hand. "What did you give me?" he demanded staggering towards them. "What was in that?"

"Merely a sedative, Dr. Jackson" the man in the middle told him. 

"What do you want with me?" Daniel asked.

"You're going on a little trip," the same man informed him.

"Where?" 

"England," Daniel was told. "The Council feels you have some explaining to do."

"Explain what?" 

"Why you disappeared to start," his kidnapper said. "How you came to work for the Air Force as well."

"There will be some questions about these weapons as well, I'm sure" one of the other men said as he grabbed the sword from Daniel's nerveless fingers.

Daniel felt the men catch him as, without the support of the sword as a crutch, he slumped towards the floor. It all finally clicked into place as they roughly hauled him up onto the couch just before the world went dark. It wasn't the NID or the Russians or anything to do with the Stargate program at all that had brought these men here. 

The sedative they gave Daniel must have been a strong one because he remained completely unaware as they carried him down the stairs of his apartment building to a large white rental van. The two who carried him threw him in the back then climbed in as well while the other man went forward to the driver's seat. He remained unconscious throughout the drive to the small airfield outside Colorado Springs where a small private jet waited for them. He didn't wake as they carried him onto the aircraft and strapped him to the gurney waiting on-board. 

They kept him sedated through the shorter leg of their journey to the East Coast where they were landed at Reagan National to take on fuel and pass through international customs. The false papers they had prepared in advance listed Daniel as one Nigel Lynch who had been seriously injured in a car accident while on vacation. The now "comatose" patient was being brought home to England where his family could be near the injured man, and Daniel was indeed an injured man. To make their masquerade more believable, and perhaps as a bit of revenge for the trouble he'd given them, they'd managed to give him a few more bruises during the drive in the van or so the three men would assure their superiors when they arrived at their final destination. They and their unconscious charge were driven to the large estate that served as headquarters for the Council in a rented ambulance in keeping with their fictitious story. Once inside the large stone manor the fiction ended though as Daniel was transferred from the gurney to a locked room in the cellar which is where he awoke hours later.


	2. Chapter 2

Colonel Jack O'Neill was not a happy man. Jack wasn't a happy man because General George Hammond was not a happy man, and well, as they say, shit flows downhill. Major Carter and Teal'c wisely chose to sit quietly in their accustomed chairs at the large conference table while O'Neill alternated between drumming his fingers on the tabletop and glaring at the empty seat where Dr. Daniel Jackson should be seated. A seat he should have taken twenty-five minutes ago. Being accustomed to Dr. Jackson's habit of turning up in the nick of time (or a minute or two late) for briefings, Hammond and O'Neill had started off using the time while they waited for Jackson to clear some of the backlog of base issues that had been placed on the backburner because of the latest crisis de jour. That distraction had lasted perhaps ten minutes until General Hammond had been pulled away to answer a phone call from the Pentagon. The general had returned to his seat at the conference table only a few minutes ago, but there was still no sign of Jackson.

"Sir, with your permission," O'Neill requested gesturing at the phone in the center of the table. After receiving Hammond's nod of permission, the others watched as Jack picked up the phone and dialed the internal extension that connected with the first level security office at NORAD. "I need to know where Dr. Jackson is, Airman" he asked. Those in the conference room only had a few moments to wait for the person on the other end of the phone to supply the answer to O'Neill's question. The colonel's sudden frown indicated to them that he didn't like the answer. "Has he checked in at all?" The other three at the table watched as he waited for the answer. "When did he check out last night?" O'Neill asked then waited yet again for the answer. "Thank you, Airman" O'Neill told the security officer on the other end of the wire before disconnecting the call. As he dialed another number he informed the others, "He never signed in this morning, and he checked out a little before midnight last night." They watched as the colonel waited for someone to answer at the number he'd dialed. "It's ringing busy," O'Neill told the others. 

"Maybe he took it off the hook," Sam suggested though she had the same knot in her stomach she saw reflected on O'Neill's face. 

Hammond pre-empted O'Neill's next request before he could voice it. "Go find Dr. Jackson, Colonel" Hammond ordered, "and keep me informed of your search."

"Yes, sir" Jack acknowledged. "Let's go," he commanded the other two members of SG-1. Carter found herself hard pressed to keep up with the longer strides of her colleagues while Teal'c almost effortlessly kept pace as Jack O'Neill almost sprinted from the conference room. "When's the last time either of you saw him?" Jack asked.

"I checked on him about ten last night on my way out," Sam told her commanding officer.

"Ten?" O'Neill questioned. "We're going to have to review that conversation about getting a life, Major, but not now. What about you, Teal'c?" 

"DanielJackson and I consumed our evening meal together at approximately seven in the evening, O'Neill," Teal'c informed his Tau'ri commander.

"Did he seem alright to you, Carter?" the colonel asked.

"He seemed a bit tired, but I don't think he was sick or anything," Sam answered after a moment's consideration. By this time the three had reached the final checkpoint on their way out of the Mountain. It didn't take them long to sign out and head for their cars. With little discussion, they decided if they weren't able to find Daniel at his apartment having two vehicles instead of one would be beneficial. Therefore Teal'c would ride with O'Neill with Carter following in her own car. 

Upon arriving at Daniel's building, O'Neill and Teal'c waited in the doorway for Carter to catch up with them then took the stairs to Daniel's apartment. Before they even reached the door, all three could see that something was wrong. The were dents in Daniel's door that had definitely not been there a few days ago when the team had gathered for pizza and poker with SG-2. From inside they could hear the unmistakable sound of a beeping phone signaling it was off the hook. As CO, Jack took the lead position for himself as they walked down the corridor. He then pointed to Teal'c followed by Carter. The other two nodded acceptance of the order of entry. Jack silently turned the door handle and found it unlocked. He held his left hand up with fingers splayed wide as Teal'c and Carter both drew the weapons they had requisitioned from the armory before leaving the base. Slowly Jack counted down to zero then surged through the door with Teal'c and Carter hard on his heels.

Jack silently motioned Teal'c to move right and check the living room. Pointing to himself, he indicated he would search the hallway and rooms straight ahead leaving Sam to check the kitchen. Jack knew Carter and Teal'c would make quick work of searching the rooms assigned to them then one would secure the apartment while the other moved down the hallway to back him up. The search went off like clockwork. Unfortunately none of them found any trace of Daniel in the thoroughly trashed apartment.

Jack re-holstered his weapon then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. "Carter, use your cell and call 911" O'Neill ordered as he dialed his own. "Sir, we're at Daniel's apartment," he said as soon as the person on the other end picked up. "His place is trashed. Looks like whatever happened, he fought back. There's blood, but not enough blood for me to believe he's dead. Carter's calling 911, but I want some of our people out here to check it out." O'Neill listened silently for several minutes while Hammond issued orders. "Thank you, sir" he finally said before disconnecting the call. "The general is sending a security team out to investigate," he informed his teammates. "In the mean time, Tea'c search the apartment for clues to what happened, but don't touch anything. Carter, you and I are going to see if any of the neighbors saw or heard anything last night."

"Yes, sir" Sam acknowledged. She couldn't help but wonder if this was what it had been like for the others when Adrian Conrad had kidnapped her a year ago.


	3. Chapter 3

Daniel woke slowly. He was immediately aware that all was not good, but it took him a few seconds to remember that he wasn't off-world and that the danger was all too terrestrial in nature. He groaned as he maneuvered himself into a sitting position unsurprised to find his view slightly blurry. He sighed thinking of the expense of replacing yet another pair of glasses then sobered as he realized he might never get the chance to replace those glasses. 

Daniel placed his hand against the stone wall behind his back using it for leverage as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. Whatever was about to happen, he intended to face it on his feet. The pain in various parts of his body caused by his movements made him realize that his attackers had meted out a bit more damage after he'd collapsed. Daniel pushed the thought of revenge out of his mind though as he turned his attention to examining his environment. By now this procedure had become so ingrained he no longer even thought about it. Step one, get captured. Step two, wake up in a cell somewhere. Step three, examine your surroundings. Step four, escape. This was different though. Normally he wasn't alone. He and Jack even joked about living in some twisted re-run of "Hogan's Heroes" at times. To which Sam would reply that she preferred "The Great Escape." Daniel was sure that had something to do with the way Hillis's hair resembled a certain colonel's.

His hands traced the rough contours of the stone walls noting with his archaeologist's expertise the chisel marks on the stones showing they were hand cut a very long time ago. _ 'Definitely not in Colorado,'_ Daniel confirmed to himself. It was only then that he realized they'd left him his watch. He checked the time and date on the digital display only to realize that he had been unconscious for nearly twenty-four hours. _ 'Jack's gonna be so pissed,' _Daniel thought. There were no windows in the room he noted not even a ventilation shaft penetrated the stone walls and ceiling. Kneeling on the floor, Daniel noted there was about an inch gap between the bottom of the door and the stone floor. It probably wouldn't help him escape, he thought, but at least he could be sure of sufficient air in the room. Having confirmed there was no way out of the cell on his own, he moved on to the next step in SG-1's "How to Escape" playbook: get the guards to open the door and attempt to try to over-power them. This usually didn't work with jaffa, but when they were captured by the local primitives, it quite often did especially if Teal'c was in the lead.

"Hey!" he shouted as he pounded a fist on the heavy wooden door. "Let me out of here! Can anyone hear me! Let me out!" He continued to shout his demand for release for another five minutes before he finally heard footsteps coming towards his makeshift cell. He immediately braced himself against the wall beside the door ready to grab whoever came to open it. Daniel knew from experience that for this maneuver to work he would have to act quickly. He listened to the scrape of metal on metal as the lock on the door was opened then the click of the door handle turning. Daniel waited until the door had opened about a foot before grabbing the shoulder that appeared in front of him. He pushed the man back out the door with as much strength as he could muster slamming him into a second man. Both men hit the opposite wall of the corridor before Daniel let go of the first man's shoulder to grab for the gun in the second man's hand. 

It was then that he heard the familiar click of a safety being flipped off. Daniel sighed as he raised his hands in surrender. _'Moving on then,'_ he thought to himself acknowledging that this try at escape had just ended. "I give up," he said aloud. "Don't shoot."

A voice behind him said, "Turn around."

He slowly complied wary of spooking the person with the gun. The man wore his left arm in a sling but steadily held a Berretta pointed at Daniel in his right hand. It was the sling on the man's arm that jarred Daniel's memory of slashing one of his attackers with a sword. "Sorry about the arm," Daniel smirked channeling the spirit of Jack O'Neill at his most idiotically sarcastic. Daniel watched the man's scowl deepen and indulged himself with a mental pat on the back.

"Move," the man ordered gesturing with the gun like the best B movie bad guy revealing how little he understood about the reality of moving prisoners. It gave Daniel a boost of hope that escape would be possible if he just bided his time.

He led the way down the hall with the three men following him. They directed him down a corridor to the right that opened up onto a large open storage area. In the center of the room stood a large wooden table with three people sitting behind it. Placed in front of the table was a simple cane chair. One of the guards grabbed Daniel by the arm and roughly guided him to this chair. "Sit," he was told as the guard suited action to words and pushed him into the chair.

Daniel complied using the time to study the three figures seated at the large wooden table. All three wore clothing of such quality to show they were "important" people. Daniel suspected he was supposed to be impressed and probably afraid of them. The strong-arm tactics they'd used to bring him here were also, at least in part, supposed to impress upon him the seriousness of the matter though the practical matter of getting an unwilling man through customs most likely had dictated those tactics. On the right sat an older woman with graying red hair and a dour expression on her face. The man in the center was a large black man with a steely look about him that reminded Daniel of Senator Kinsey's power at any cost attitude. The third person at the table was a middle-aged man of wiry strength.

"Dr. Daniel Jackson, you've been brought here to stand trial," the black man informed him.

"Trial for what?" Daniel asked.

"That is what we must determine," the woman informed him.

At her nod, Daniel found himself being held down in the chair by a man on each side as two others worked to secure his hands and feet to it. He struggled against them, but their combined weight made it a futile effort. His struggles increased as he saw the man with the injured arm wheel a cart into the room. On the cart, Daniel saw a car battery, jumper cables, and various other items whose uses he knew only too well from listening to a drunken Jack O'Neill relive his captivity in Iraq one night after the death of Frank Cromwell years ago.


	4. Chapter 4

When the first uniformed officer arrived at Daniel's apartment he found an imposingly large African American moving slowly around the living room looking carefully at everything. The officer's hand went automatically to the holster of his gun pulling the snap that held the weapon in place. "Police," the officer said in a practiced voice of authority.

Having watched countless hours of Tau'ri television and movies, Teal'c knew to raise his arms over his head. "I mean you no harm," he told the officer.

"You the one that called in a problem here?" the officer asked.

"MajorCarter telephoned your emergency services," Teal'c answered.

"So where is this Major Carter now?" the officer asked.

"She and O'Neill are presently questioning the other residents of this building as to any disturbances there might have been last night," Teal'c told the officer.

"And that would be a big nada," O'Neill added from the doorway.

"Major Carter?" the police officer asked.

"O'Neill," Jack corrected. "Colonel. Carter's still questioning the neighbors."

The officer nodded. "Officer Peterson, sir" he introduced himself. "Can you tell me what happened here?" he requested pulling out his notepad.

"This apartment belongs to Dr. Daniel Jackson, who is a member of my team," Jack explained. "When he didn't show up for a briefing this morning, my commanding officer sent us out to find him. When we got here we noticed a bunch of dents in the door which was unlocked. When we entered, this is what we found." Jack gestured to the mess of the living room indicating the duffel bag and keys on the floor by the door and the blood on the floor.

"Sir, I've got something," Carter announced returning with an old woman in tow. "This is Mrs. Kessler. She lives two doors down. Ma'am, can you tell them what you told me?" Sam requested.

"Certainly, dear" Mrs. Kessler agreed. "Around midnight last night, I heard someone coming up the stairs. I don't sleep much at night, you see, and Leno was just ending."

"I do," Jack assured her before warning the cop with a glare to keep silent. "So then what happened?"

"Well, I heard a crash and someone shout 'Get out', but then the noise stopped" she explained. "A few minutes later I heard several people walk by my apartment."

"How do you know it was several people?" Jack asked.

"Oh there were too many footsteps for it to be just one," she said to him. "I may be old, but my hearing is still just fine!"

"I believe you," O'Neill assured her. "Is there anything else you can think of?"

"Tell him about the light in the hallway, Mrs. Kessler," Sam prompted the woman.

"Oh, yes!" the old woman exclaimed. "When I opened the door to see what was going on, the light in the hallway was dark."

"So?" the cop asked.

"It's on now," Sam told him.

"I still don't see..."

"Whoever attacked Daniel took the light bulb out of the hall light so he wouldn't see the damage to his door," Jack told the cop. "It's an old trick."

"The light in the entry is also disabled," Carter informed her CO.

"What did you find...Murray?" Jack asked.

"A number of DanielJackson's weapons are missing, O'Neill" Teal'c said.

"Weapons?" Officer Peterson demanded.

"Daniel's an archaeologist. He collects antique weapons," Jack explained.

"An archaeologist working for the Air Force?" the cop questioned.

"He speaks twenty-three languages," Jack said. "We're using him as a translator. Any particular weapons missing?"

"Only the serviceable edged weapons," Teal'c said as he nodded to a stone axe on one wall and the Native American spear displayed prominently on another.

"Now that's weird," Jack mumbled.

"So this was a robbery," the cop decided.

"Not likely," Jack snorted. "That light tells me they were waiting for him in here. Besides anyone who would know enough to know that Daniel's weapons were worth something, would also know that that spear and the axe are worth considerably more than the rest of the collection. It doesn't make sense to just take the edged weapons, and why take the weapons at all if they were after him?!"

"I'd better call the detectives out here," the young officer decided reaching for the radio clipped to his shirt.

"Yeah," Jack agreed as he pulled out his own cell phone and dialing Hammond's private line. "It's me, sir" Jack said. "It looks like Daniel's gotten himself kidnapped."


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm Julia, Dr. Jackson," the red haired woman seated at the table said. "This is Ivan," she introduced the thin man to her right, "and Paul. We will be your judges."

"The pleasure's all yours," Daniel rejoined causing a frown to appear on each of their faces. _'Hanging around Jack way too much,'_ Daniel thought to himself. 

"You disappeared on us, Dr. Jackson" his female questioner said. 

"There was nothing in the oath I took that said I couldn't leave," Daniel reminded her. 

"Then a few weeks later, you're reported dead," Ivan added.

"That ended our interest in you," Paul explained in a heavy French accent.

"Yeah, about that. Why have you come after me now?" Daniel asked. "Not that I'm not flattered by all the trouble you've gone to to get me here..."

"Your friend came to us with an interesting story," Julia informed him.

"My friend?" Daniel asked.

"Me, Daniel," a familiar voice from behind him said. "Did you think I would just accept that bull shit story you fed me in the hospital in Egypt?" Stephen asked.

"Stephen, you don't know what you're talking about," Daniel pleaded.

"I know you found something, Daniel," Stephen responded, "and I know you're hiding it. I know something's happened to Sarah, and that you're lying to me about it. That made me wonder what had given you your crazy ideas to begin with."

"And that led him to us," Julia finished. "We were astonished to hear you were still alive, Dr. Jackson, after being declared dead."

"Ah, yeah, well. About that," Daniel temporized. "The Air Force hired me to do some translations, but I went native on them during the mission. Met a girl. Settled down. They declared me dead to avoid any uncomfortable questions about where I'd gone."

"And then you were suddenly alive again," Julia continued as if he hadn't spoken at all.

"My wife was kidnapped," Daniel explained carefully thinking through his answer to avoid saying anything that would get him shot once the rest of SG-1 found him. "The Air Force was after the same group that took her. So I hired back on in the hopes of finding my wife."

"And did you?" Ivan asked continuing the questioning.

"Yeah," Daniel admitted.

"And yet you stay with the Air Force," Paul stated. 

"You didn't say anything about a wife, Daniel" Stephen accused.

"She was shot attempting to rescue her," Daniel explained. "She died in my arms a couple of years ago. I don't like to talk about it. As for staying with the Air Force, I want revenge." It was a plausible excuse. Daniel just hoped they bought it.

"And what have you told them about us?" Ivan asked.

"Nothing," Daniel assured them. "I swore an oath."

"Oaths can be broken," Paul rejoined.

"You haven't explained your friend Sarah's disappearance, Dr. Jackson" Julia reminded him. This reminder was accompanied by a glare from Stephen. "Dr. Raynor told us such fascinating things...like the fact that Sarah's eyes glowed."

Daniel swallowed uneasily suspecting that the tone of their questioning was about to change. "I can't tell you about that," Daniel said. "I swore an oath to the Air Force that I wouldn't reveal their secrets. I didn't reveal yours to them. I won't reveal theirs to you."

"We shall see about that, Dr. Jackson" Julia informed him nodding to the man with the cart.

"Stephen, don't let them do this!" Daniel screamed as he thrashed in the chair. "For God's sake, Stephen! God damn it! I thought you were my friend, Stephen!"

"Sarah was my friend, Daniel" Stephen said. "I thought she was your friend, too."

The man who had brought in the cart moved forward with a pair of scissors in his hands to cut Daniel's shirt off. Daniel's shoes came next, and his bare feet were placed in a tub of water. A minute later, Daniel began to scream.


	6. Chapter 6

"Carter," Jack called gesturing with a jerk of his head that the two of them move away from the detectives searching Daniel's apartment. 

"Sir?" she questioned joining him in the doorway of the kitchen as far away as they could get from the detectives without arousing suspicion.

"I'm going to wait for the security team Hammond's sending over," Jack told her. "Take Teal'c and start checking the emergency rooms for Daniel and anyone who might have been cut with a sword."

Sam's gaze swept around Daniel's trashed apartment again this time with a new focus. She noted the duffel bag and keys dropped to the floor near the door and the overturned side table on the floor below where three of Daniel's swords had hung. She noted the spray of blood on the floor and the flecks of blood on the walls. "You think he fought back," she decided. "That he may have wounded one of his attackers."

"Worth a shot," Jack said. "Call Hammond and have him get a list of private and military planes that took off from the area last night after midnight. We might get lucky there too." 

"Yes, sir" Sam said confirming her understanding of his orders. She waved a hand to Teal'c who had been observing the detectives' investigation. With a dip of his head, he quietly moved away from the detectives to join the two of them. "We've got to go," Sam told her teammate.

"I'll catch up with you later," Jack told the jaffa warrior.

Teal'c dipped his head again signaling his understanding. 

It was at the fourth emergency center where they finally got lucky talking to a nurse just coming off shift. Sam knew they had the uniforms they wore and the war on terror to thank for loosening the nurse's tongue. As soon as she'd thanked the nurse for the information, she flipped open her cell phone and hit the speed dial associated with O'Neill. "Sir, it's Carter," she said. "We got lucky at Penrose," she said. "A nurse from the night shift told us about treating a man with a deep gash on his left arm. The location of the gash seemed odd to her, but it was the accent that made her remember him. She said the guy spoke with a British accent. It's probably why she talked to us. I think she assumed we were looking for terrorists."

"Alright, I'm with the general," she heard O'Neill say over the phone. "Stay there. I'll call the detectives and meet you there." She heard papers shuffling in the background. "Okay," he said finally. "There was a flight out of Springs East with a final destination of England last night. We'll see what we can learn at the hospital and then check out the airport."

Having several uniformed Air Force officers along seemed to loosen the doctor's tongue as well when O'Neill arrived with the police detectives or maybe it was simply the dangerous expression on the colonel's face. The doctor could add little to what the nurse had told them already other than the name of the patient and a more detailed description of the man from the his medical chart. O'Neill's gut instinct was telling him that the information would probably be of little help though. His gut was telling him that Daniel and his kidnappers had been on that flight for England last night. After Carter's call, he'd checked out Daniel's personnel file before leaving the base to meet the detectives and the rest of his team at the emergency room. Something about England had been niggling at the back of Jack's mind as soon as Carter had told him about what the nurse had said. It had taken him only a few seconds to find what that was. Daniel had been employed by some obscure foundation in England just before Catherine Langford had recruited him to translate the Stargate's coverstone. The officer who had conducted the background check on Daniel had noted that the people he spoke with from the foundation had seemed a bit too close mouthed to him. Nothing to send up a red flag over, but enough to make note of in the report. When he'd returned to Hammond's office with Daniel's file in hand, he'd found the general already on the phone with the embassy in London asking their security personnel to conduct a very quiet inquiry into any private aircraft coming into that country from the United States ten hours previously and any time after that. Before the general ended his call, Jack added a request of his own for the embassy security staff. He also got the cell phone number for the "cultural attaché."

From the security gate at the airport, they got a list of vehicles entering and leaving the grounds in the hours just after Daniel's disappearance the previous night. With a quick scan of the list, Carter noticed an entry for a white van without a corresponding exit. The van was found an hour later tucked away behind one of the privately owned hangers. They called out the techs, but it was clear that the van had been thoroughly wiped before being abandoned here.

"So far we're scoring a zero, sir" O'Neill reported via his cell phone. "Found a van out here they most likely used, but it looks like it's been wiped clean." Sam and Teal'c listened to O'Neill's side of the conversation as he continued to brief their commanding officer. "Yes, sir" O'Neill said. "We'll meet Frasier there." Jack closed his cell phone as he turned to his teammates. "Hope you packed your toothbrush, kiddies" he told them. "We're going to D.C. then depending on what we find there, England."


	7. Chapter 7

Daniel woke once again in the small storage room. He carefully opened his eyes, but from past experience knew to wait before trying to move any more. He mentally took stock of his injuries. _'Suffered worse before,'_ he decided finally then winced from the truth of the statement rather than the physical pain he felt.

"So you're awake," a voice to his right said.

It was a statement, not a question, so Daniel felt no great need to respond to the man who had been his friend. Stephen stood with his back to the stone wall opposite Daniel. "I knew you had a dark side, Stephen" Daniel said instead as he carefully pushed himself into an upright position with his own back braced against the stone wall. "Too much ambition and too much pride, but I never would have thought you'd stand by and watch while someone was tortured...especially someone you used to think of as your friend."

"Sarah..."

"Sarah is just an excuse," Daniel growled back. "This is about getting back at me for finding something you hadn't. This is about beating me...literally this time, it seems." Daniel lifted his shirt as he spoke to inspect the damage the tribunal's thugs had done to him. As such, he didn't see Stephen swallow as he looked at the mass of bruises on Daniel's chest.

"I didn't know they were going to do that," Stephen protested quietly.

"You didn't try to stop it," Daniel reminded his onetime friend turning his attention from his injuries back to the other man.

"What could I have done?" Stephen demanded.

"Leave here," Daniel suggested. "Call the police. Call the embassy. Let my friends in Colorado know what's going on."

"The Air Force?!" Stephen objected. "You want me to go to the Air Force...after Sarah."

"They don't have Sarah!" Daniel shouted then found himself curled almost in a ball as his bruised (and probably broken) ribs protested the deep breath he took.

"Daniel?" Stephen questioned straightening away from the wall to move towards the body writhing on the floor. Daniel waved him away though. "Is she alive?" Stephen asked slowly a moment later.

"Yes" Daniel answered immediately drawing a careful breath before continuing, "As far as I know she's still alive. Sarah was taken by the same...group...that took my wife. We're trying to get her back. I can't tell you more than that Stephen."

"How can I trust you?!"

"You know me, Stephen" Daniel reminded the other man. "Do you know the Council? Have they told you their secrets?"

"No," Stephen admitted. "Why don't you tell me?"

"I can't, Stephen!" Daniel argued. "They're going to kill me when they're done," he predicted deciding to try another tact to gain Stephen's help.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Stephen snapped.

"No matter what I tell them, they're going to kill me. They've gone too far for anything else to happen," Daniel argued. "They can't take the chance that I'll talk."

"I won't go to the Air Force," Stephen said.

Daniel heard the concession in Stephen's voice. "Fine," he agreed. "Where are we?"

"England," Stephen answered. "At the Council's headquarters."

"Okay," Daniel acknowledged options rapidly considering and discarding his options. He needed help, but he also didn't want to endanger Stephen. "I had a friend when I was here. His name was Adam, Adam Pierson. He's a researcher. Find him and tell him what's going on, Stephen. He may be able to help me. Will you at least do that?"

"Alright," Stephen agreed as he moved towards the door. "I'll find your friend, Adam."

"Stephen," Daniel called before his friend could knock on the thick wooden door. When Stephen turned back towards Daniel's prone form, he said, "Be careful. They can't take the chance you'll talk either."

Stephen noticeably paled before nodding. He knocked on the door. "Let me out," he said. He took one last look at Daniel's battered form on the floor of his makeshift cell, perhaps realizing it could be him next, before stepping out.

Stephen found himself being escorted by the guards to the room he'd been assigned. He opened the door and entered catching a quick look behind him as he did so of the guard taking up station outside his room. Stephen swallowed as for the first time, he realized he had gotten himself into a situation he didn't understand that could very likely cost him his life. Worse, it seemed that Daniel had escaped these psychos years ago and now Stephen had led them right to him. 

These people were well organized and well funded, Stephen knew. For the most part, that was to their advantage, but not this time. Since his arrival they'd treated Stephen like a welcome guest, even allowing him to connect his laptop to their network so that he could keep up with his e-mail. Stephen was by no means a techo-geek, but he was a university academic so wading through the Council's computer network looking for the information he needed was easily within his realm of knowledge. It was not a quick search, but eventually Stephen found a memo detailing the resignation of one Adam Pierson from the Watchers. The memo continued describing concerns about Pierson's friendship with one Duncan McCloud of Seacouver and Paris. There was also mention of Pierson maintaining contact with Joseph Dawson, the North American coordinator of the Watchers. Armed with that information, Stephen got his satellite phone from his suitcase and phoned his grad assistant in Chicago who kindly looked up phone numbers for all three men in Seacouver.

He phoned Pierson first only to get an answering machine. A call to McCloud's number reached an establishment called DeSalvo's Dojo, but when Stephen asked after McCloud and Pierson the manager who had taken the call told him to call Joe's bar and gave him the number. Stephen's heart was pounding in his chest as he made this third call. A small paranoid part of his mind was sure he would be caught at any moment.

"Joe's" a gravelly voice greeted him from the tiny speaker in his phone. "How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Adam Pierson," Stephen said. "I was told I could find him here."

"Hey, Adam!" the voice said. "Phone call. I'm gonna start chargin' you rent..." Stephen heard the voice fade away.

"Yeah, yeah. Joe" a new voice said in a cultured British accent. "This is Adam."

"Daniel Jackson needs your help," Stephen said. "The Council has put him on trial. I think they're going to kill him." Stephen disconnected the call having done what he'd said he would for Daniel. He looked anxiously at the door to his room before quickly storing his phone back among his belongings.


	8. Chapter 8

Methos, oldest of the Immortals, stood staring at the now buzzing phone in his hand. He stood there long enough to draw the attention of the phone's owner who took it from his hand and replaced it in its cradle. "Adam?" Joe asked. 

"What's going on?" Mac demanded joining his two friends at the bar having abandoned his seat at one of the tables and his lunch with it.

"He said the Council has put Daniel Jackson on trial," Adam said.

"That's impossible!" Joe argued. "Daniel's dead."

"Are you sure, Joe?" Adam asked.

"There was a death certificate signed by the U.S. Air Force," Joe told the world's oldest living man.

"Who are you talking about?" Duncan asked.

"Dr. Daniel Jackson," Joe answered. "He was a researcher with the Watchers."

"And Horton's foster son," Adam added.

"A Hunter?" Duncan demanded angrily.

"No!" Joe denied. "Not Daniel. There wasn't a mean bone in that boy's body."

"I would agree," Methos said. There was a thoughtful look on his face as he continued, "At the time, I suspected Horton had him killed when he wouldn't cooperate."

"What?!" Joe gasped. "Why didn't you say anything?" he demanded.

"What would that have accomplished, Joe?" Methos asked. "Except adding to your grief...and your guilt."

Joe lowered himself onto one of the barstools. "Daniel was determined to study in England when he graduated from high school," Joe remembered. "I would almost say desperate."

"That doesn't surprise me," Adam said. "Daniel was always very...tense...whenever Horton came to visit.

"What are you saying, Adam? That James abused him?" Joe asked with an expression of sick shock on his face. "I would have..." Joe couldn't finish that objection. He hadn't noticed his brother-in-law was killing Immortals. How could he claim he would have noticed him abusing the child placed in his care?

"I don't think it was physical," Methos told the other two men. "Mentally? Emotionally? When I met him he spoke how many languages? Sixteen? Seventeen? And he was only eighteen. He studied like his life depended on it."

"And maybe to Daniel it did," Joe concluded. Joe had been the one to arrange to have Daniel placed in the care of his sister and her husband. A few months after their deaths, Joe had gone to check on the only son of two Watcher field researchers who had died in a freak accident. What he had found had deeply shocked him. The injuries he'd sustained in that first foster home had put him in the hospital, and Joe had moved Heaven and Earth to see the boy was placed in a safe home upon release with his sister...and her husband. A young boy torn from his parents and placed in that Hell. How desperate must he have been to stay in the home where he was fed and clothed and where no hand was raised to him. "Oh God," Joe breathed. "What did I do to him?"

"You couldn't have known, Joe" Methos said trying to absolve his friend of guilt. "Daniel guards himself well. I was his roommate at college, and I'm not even sure..."

"I am," Joe said. "It fits. You didn't see where I found him, Adam. All James would have had to do was threaten to send him back there."

"Daniel was extremely intelligent. He saw and understood things few others could," Adam told the other two not wanting to admit he suspected Daniel knew exactly who he was.

"You think he arranged his own disappearance to get away from James?" Joe asked.

"It's possible," Methos replied. "If he did, how did the Council find him now? And why do they have him on trial?"

"Could they think he's a Hunter?" Duncan asked.

"Maybe," Joe admitted, "but when he disappeared it was with the U.S. Air Force. They may think he told the government about Immortals."

"No," Methos denied. "Daniel's as likely to have done that as turned Hunter. It's just not in him. Besides if he had, the Watchers would know about Immortals being captured by the government by now. It's been...what? Six or seven years."

"Maybe," Duncan agreed dubiously. 

"Whoever that was on the phone said he thinks they're going to kill Daniel," Methos said.

"I'm going to Headquarters," Joe announced as he picked up the phone.

"Make that two tickets, Joseph" Methos said. Duncan raised an eyebrow at this. "What can I say? I like the boy," Methos admitted though that was hardly the only reason for this little adventure.

"I'm coming too," Duncan announced. "If only to keep the Old Man out of trouble."


	9. Chapter 9

Carter and Teal'c were doing their level best to avoid O'Neill as he paced the USO lounge at Dulles waiting for their flight to be called. Dr. Janet Frasier followed their lead. At her own request, she had joined the search in case Dr. Jackson needed immediate medical attention when he was found. O'Neill had already spent half an hour on his cell phone haranguing the "cultural attach" to dig up more on the group that Daniel had worked for in England, but so far the man had had little success. The private jet, they had already learned in Colorado, had been rented specifically for this flight. The documentation provided the rental agency had already been checked. The money trail there led to an off-shore dummy corporation and then stopped. That in itself gave them some information. This group was obviously well funded and well connected, and that was perhaps why O'Neill was angry the most. Daniel had hidden something from them...something dangerous, and if there was something dangerous to a member of his team then O'Neill expected to damn well be informed of it! 

"Colonel O'Neill," a timid voice asked from the door. O'Neill turned to find a middle aged woman standing hesitantly in the doorway. "My name's Mary Anderson. My supervisor said you wanted to speak with me," she informed him. She didn't add that her supervisor had refused to come anywhere near the irate Air Force colonel again after his own close encounter with O'Neill's temper.

"Yes," the colonel agreed as he clamped down on his emotions having noted the poor customs agent was scared to death. "Last night you handled a medivac flight to England?"

"Ye...yes" Mary stuttered as she became aware of the intense interest of the other three uniformed people in the room. She felt sure the big man standing with his hands behind his back could snap her in half without breaking a sweat.

"Tell us everything you can remember," Jack commanded. "What did the passengers looked like? What were they wearing? Anything they said?"

"The condition of their patient," Janet added.

"Ww...well, the man on the gurney," she said taking the last question first. "He had bandages on his head, and his face was bruised. They said he'd had an accident skiing...like Sonny Bono." She watched as the four in uniform traded a look, but unlike SG-1 and Frasier she was unaware that the story that had been given in Colorado Springs was a car accident.

"Did he have an IV?" she asked. "He was unconscious?"

"No...no IV," the customs agent answered recognizing the term and the device from television. "He was out cold though. They said he was in a coma."

Jack took a picture of the team from his wallet, one Cassie had taken of them in the park. "Is that the man on the gurney?" he asked pointing to Daniel's grinning face.

"Why...yes!" she exclaimed. "I think it is. His face was so bruised..." she murmured as she looked at the picture. When she looked up the faced that had been gravely serious now showed intense worry. "He's your friend?"

"Yeah," Jack acknowledged, "and his name isn't Nigel Lynch."

"Oh!" she exclaimed even as she thought to herself what a story she'd have to tell her husband when she got home. This experience which had a moment before been frightening was now terribly thrilling. _'A kidnapping! Just imagine,'_ she thought wondering just what the bookish man could do for the military that he had been kidnapped for. 

Jack could see all of this in her expression. _'How surprised would she be at the answer?'_ he wondered. Aloud he asked, "Did you notice any tattoos or anything to identify them that wouldn't be in their passport photos?"

"Tattoos," the customs agent immediately answered warming to their questions. "They had identical tattoos on their wrists. I noticed because I thought it was a pretty design, and then I saw that they all had it."

"Could you draw this design for us?" Jack demanded. 'Now we're getting somewhere,' he thought. Identical tattoos might mean a club or society or military unit. If they could identify the group, it would make tracking Daniel's kidnappers easier. 

"Yes," Mary said. "I think I can." She took the paper Carter handed her and within minutes after a few failed attempts had a fair approximation of the tattoo she'd seen. "That's close," she finally declared. "I don't think I can do any better."

"That's fine," Sam soothed as she took the paper back. "I'll fax this to Paul Davis. He should be able to run it through the databases for us."

Jack nodded then asked Mary, "They spoke with British accents?"

"Two did," Mary agreed. "The other was French."

Jack nodded. This matched the passport information they already had, but it was good to have confirmation. The passports were being checked now, but Jack was pretty certain they would turn up to be fakes. The accents were less likely to be faked though. So to England they would go and just pray that they found Daniel in time.


	10. Chapter 10

Daniel attempted to walk as two of the thugs from his apartment dragged him from his makeshift cell, but his battered body refused to cooperate. He found himself being dragged back before the three members of his so-called tribunal. Through bruised and swollen eyes Daniel saw pieces from his weapons collection spread before him on the table. He also noted the extra guards in the room or maybe they were here merely to witness the trial. Stephen sat stiffly between two such men. There was a look of fear in Stephen's eyes now, Daniel noted. _'Good,'_ Daniel thought._ 'Idiot got us both into this. He'd better be afraid 'cause when we get out of this, I'm going to murder him.'_ Daniel was pushed roughly into the wooden chair that was now stained with his blood. One of the guards then immediately cuffed his hands to the rungs of the chair.

"So you are not Immortal," Paul mused with the cultured accent of a British aristocrat.

"Was there some doubt before?" Daniel snapped straightening as best he could though the burns on his torso and his broken ribs protested every movement. "I would have thought your errand boys had already settled that question," Daniel pointed out. Daniel took a moment to study the man while he waited for him to respond. The man Julia had introduced as Paul was approaching sixty, Daniel guessed. His portly figure showed evidence of a sedentary lifestyle. Daniel guessed he was, as Jack would say, some desk puke whose closest experience to field work was reading the reports sent to him.

"Yes, well" Paul temporized looking at Julia and the other man, Ivan, for direction.

"There was the matter of these, Dr. Jackson" Julia said pointing to the weapons arrayed in front of her on the table, "and your involvement in James Horton's activities."

"I bought those at auction," Daniel told her. "I'd show you the receipts or the documents establishing provenance, but since I wasn't allowed to pack for myself..."

"Cheeky bugger!" Daniel heard one of the thugs say just before his head was snapped around with the force of the blow he hadn't seen coming.

"Enough!" Julia commanded with a shout. "And what of your activities with your foster father?" she asked in a quieter voice.

"I haven't seen him since I left," Daniel informed them. "He's the reason I did leave."

"Were you helping him?" the third judge finally asked in heavily accented English. "Are you a Hunter, Dr. Jackson?"

"No, I didn't help him," Daniel said. "He wanted me to help him find the old ones...the lost ones. He was obsessed about it really. It freaked me out. I left to get away from him hoping he'd lose interest. I just wanted to be done with him and with the Watchers."

"And what did he wish to do with that information?" Paul questioned.

"I don't know," Daniel lied because he did know and he had done something. He'd warned the one Immortal he felt safe approaching with the information, Darius. He'd even given the ancient priest one of the chronicles to help convince him. Before joining the Stargate program, Daniel would have probably told them the truth. Now he knew better. This tribunal was looking for an excuse to kill him. So far, he'd given them nothing, but telling an Immortal, even Darius, about the Watchers would definitely give them the excuse they wanted. "I didn't stick around to find out."

"You're lying," Julia stated then nodded to the man with the jumper cables.

"I'm not lying," Daniel whispered hoarsely minutes later as the thug moved away from him. "I swear."

"Then we shall tell you," Paul said. "Horton was hunting Immortals...killing them."

"I had no idea," Daniel reiterated. "I didn't know."

Before any of the three could respond there was a commotion at the door. Guards were pushed out of the way as an older man limped in leaning on a cane. "What the HELL do you idiots think you're doing?" Joe Dawson demanded as he stormed towards the tribunal at the table.

"This isn't your concern, Joseph" Julia told him as she rose to stand.

"The hell it isn't!" Joe retorted stopping next to Daniel's chair. "Daniel, you still live in the States, right?"

"Yeah," Daniel answered immediately still shocked to see the other man here. A second later, Daniel remembered where he was and what was going on. "Get out of here, Joe" Daniel commanded. "Don't risk..."

"Shut up, Danny" Joe snapped. He seemed surprised when Daniel actually obeyed, but he'd sounded so much like Jack when he was in command mode that his reaction had been automatic. "As the North American supervisor," Joe stated. "Daniel is my concern."

"You are too close to this, Dawson" Ivan attempted to sooth Dawson. "We will handle this matter."

"Like you wanted to 'handle' me a few years ago?" Joe demanded. "I don't think so!"

"You really have no choice in the matter," Ivan told the older man as he snapped his fingers to the men stationed around the room.

"Yeah, actually, I do," Joe disagreed as he pulled a small object from his pocket. Joe yanked the pin then tossed the canister away toward the small crowd of Watchers. "Close your eyes!" Joe commanded Daniel as he toppled both Daniel and the chair falling on top of both himself. 


	11. Chapter 11

Methos thought it fortunate that Duncan had hit upon the idea to include Amanda and McCleod new protégé, Nick, in their caper. It was, as Mac had put it, right up their alley. Because of his recent "death" Nick couldn't use any of his former contacts, but using his information Methos had acquired the flash-bangs they would use to, hopefully, avoid permanently injuring any of the Watchers. With so many watching Daniel's "trial" it had been simple enough for the five of them to storm Watcher's headquarters without raising the alarm, at least so far.

"Sorry," Nick told the captive Watcher who had led them to the cellar courtroom, "but you need to take a nap now." He then used the butt of his pistol to tap the man at the base of his skull dropping him instantly into unconsciousness.

"Nicely done, darling" Amanda purred.

"Let's concentrate on keeping Joe and Daniel alive shall we?" Methos suggested grimly before the two could begin squabbling yet again. Nick still hadn't forgiven Amanda completely for helping him become Immortal though he had relented enough to let her introduce him to a potential teacher, Duncan McCleod. "Damned boy scouts," he murmured to himself earning him a glare from Duncan. The oldest of Immortals was fairly certain that part of Mac's anger was worry over their Watcher friend. He wasn't the only one. Methos had originally planned to be the one to confront the Watcher tribunal, but Joe had argued that even with his Immortal healing, the concussion from the flash-bang would stun whoever set it off. Methos could help carry Daniel and the stunned rescuer. Joe, however, could not. Methos and Amanda had quickly conceded Joe's logic, but the two boy scouts had vociferously objected. Joe had won the argument and entered the basement "courtroom." Now the four Immortals waited anxiously outside for Joe's signal to enter.

BOOM!

Methos shouldered the door open charging into the room. Through the lingering smoke, his eyes immediately found Joe's familiar form on the floor slumped atop another figure tied to a chair. Methos pulled Joe off of Daniel then checked both men's vital signs. Amanda had followed him over to the two men while Duncan divested the various watchers of their weapons. Nick stood near the door covering all of them with a powerful sub-machine gun. Amanda made quick work of the handcuffs holding Daniel to the chair. Daniel struggled to roll over. "It's alright," Amanda soothed as she helped him roll onto his back. "We're here to help you."

"Stephen," Daniel said pointing in the general direction of where his former colleague had been sitting. "We've got to take Stephen with us."

"Adam?" Amanda called. "Who's he talking about?" 

Methos surveyed the area of the room Daniel had indicated and easily picked out the one man he didn't recognize from his own tenure at Watcher headquarters. "Duncan, carry Daniel" Methos commanded as he helped Joe to his feet then passed him over to Amanda. "You help Joe," he said then moved quickly to the group of three stunned men. A quick glance confirmed the one in the middle had no telltale tattoo on his wrist. Methos pulled the wrist he held bringing the man up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Let's go," he said leading the way back out of the room followed by Duncan carrying Daniel. Amanda came next helping Joe to walk followed by Nick. As soon as they were through, Nick shut the door behind them then knocked over a stack of boxes to slow any pursuit.

"Trade me," Nick commanded handing Amanda the gun while he lifted Joe into a fireman's carry of his own which the elder man wisely didn't protest.

After putting Joe in the passenger's seat, Nick ran around the front of the van Methos had rented under a false name while the others piled into the back. Even before they'd taken off, Adam had begun assessing the damage done to Daniel. Knowing what the Watcher's were capable of, they'd come prepared with as many medical supplies as they could manage.

"He needs a hospital," Duncan declared even though he knew it wasn't possible. The Watchers were too well connected to chance taking Daniel to the hospital just like they hadn't been able to take Joe to one before. Even if that weren't the case there would be too many questions asked about Daniel's injuries.

"You doubt my skills, McCleod?" Methos asked.

"You haven't been a doctor in over a century," Mac reminded his friend.

"I've kept up with the literature," Methos argued.

"That's supposed to be comforting?" Nick demanded whipping his head around for a quick glance at the activity in the back of the van.

"He kept me alive, junior" Joe told the youngest member of the rescue party. 

"What about the other one?" Amanda demanded in a hiss as she glanced quickly at their unexpected rescuee.

Methos spared a glance at the still dazed man. "Leave him for now," he decided before turning back to cutting away Daniel's ruined shirt. "Just keep an eye on him." Methos pulled apart the two halves of the shirt to reveal a kaleidoscope of bruises and a number of serious burns. Methos worked his way down both sides of Daniel's rib cage searching for broken ribs then turned his attention to inspecting Daniel's other injuries. 


	12. Chapter 12

Daniel came back to himself slowly. As he did so, he became aware that the pain from his injuries had the dull edge associated with excellent narcotics. He didn't hear the familiar sounds of the infirmary though. The heart monitor wasn't beeping near his bed, and he couldn't hear the whine of the ventilation system. Daniel knew that the drugs were slowing his thinking. It was a state he'd grown used to over the last couple years so he didn't panic. Instead he willed himself to remain relaxed feigning unconsciousness. Joe had shown up, he remembered that. He'd tried to get Joe to leave, but Joe refused. then he'd set off a concussion grenade, a flash-bang Jack called them. That was pretty much the last thing he remembered, Daniel realized.

"Joe," Daniel called softly finding it took some effort to open his eyes as he did so. "Joe?" he called again louder this time. It was dark wherever he was and smelled of the must of old books.

"Not Joe," a familiar quiet voice from the dark said, "but I hope I'll do." Daniel heard someone moving towards him in the darkness. A second later a light clicked on over his head, and Daniel found himself looking into the face of his old college roommate. "I've been waiting for you to wake up," Adam said. "Joe's getting some sleep in the next room."

"How bad?" Daniel asked noting the worried look on Adam's face.

"Some of the burns are infected," Adam told his friend, "and I think you have some internal bleeding. That may stop on its own, but if it doesn't you'll need surgery. Taking you to a hospital is a risk that, so far, we don't want to take, Daniel."

Daniel nodded. "I need you to call someone for me, Adam."

"Who?" Adam asked.

"Friends," Daniel told him. "They can keep us safe."

"All of us?" Adam demanded, but it wasn't really Adam Pierson making the demand. It was Methos in his persona of Death who had to know just what danger Daniel posed. Methos realized he wouldn't get an answer from the man on the pallet who was once again unconscious. Methos's eyes narrowed as he considered his options. He left the light on as he left the small room. In the next room the others were mostly sleeping wherever they could find a spot except for Nick who stood guard over the unexpected member of their little group. Nick looked up, but Methos waved him back as he stalked over to the man huddled against the far wall. "I think we need to have a little talk," Methos announced as he squatted in front of the other man..

"About what?" Stephen asked pressing more firmly back against the wall as he looked up at the man standing over him.

"We'll start with who you are and what you have to do with Daniel," Adam told him

"My name is Stephen Raynor," the archaeologist answered. "I'm a friend of Daniel's."

"Oh I very much doubt that," Methos refuted breathing menace into each syllable. "Friends don't usually sit by and watch as a person is tortured," Methos said.

There was something in his eyes that frightened Stephen. It even frightened Nick who had come to be friends with the oldest of Immortals in the last few months since becoming Duncan MacCleod's student. That look was enough to break what remained of Stephen's confidence, and the whole story came rushing out of him. Starting with his rivalry with Daniel in graduate school and Daniel's subsequent fall from grace through Daniel's appearance at their mentor's funeral and Sarah's disappearance. Methos barely held his anger in check as this pretty boy explained how he'd betrayed Daniel to the Watchers without even a clue to the danger he was placing them both in. Methos didn't interrupt though wanting to hear the entire story without interruptions.

"And then you showed up," Stephen finished with a nervous swallow.

"Tell me again about Sarah," Methos demanded. "You said her eyes glowed." For the next hour, he and Nick played "good cop, bad cop" with Raynor dragging as much information as they could from him. Finally Methos stood and walked to the smaller of two coolers holding their food. From within, he withdrew a bottle of his favorite beer.

"He's nuts!" Nick whispered leaning down to get his own drink, a soda, in deference to his guard duty.

"I am very much afraid that he isn't," Methos murmured even as he tried to ignore the niggling little thought at the back of his mind that there was something he should remember. Something he **_must_** remember.


	13. Chapter 13

Within an hour the quiet in the outer room was disrupted by the first scream from Daniel's darkened sick room. "Sha're! Noooo!" his rescuers heard him wail. By the time Methos barreled into the room followed by Joe and the others, Daniel's fevered cries had fallen into a language that Methos alone understood. The oldest Immortal hurried forward to press Daniel back down onto his makeshift bed then bent to whisper soothingly to his former college roommate in the same language.

"What language is that?" Nick asked from the doorway where he could see what was going on in Daniel's sick room, but still keep an eye on Stephen and the door to their hidden sanctuary.

"Sounds Arabic," Duncan murmured to which Amanda and their unexpected rescuee, Dr. Raynor, both nodded agreement, "but I don' recognize the dialect."

"It's ancient Egyptian," Adam informed them quietly as he wiped a cool cloth across Daniel's face and neck. "A dialect spoken in the region around the city of Abydos about four thousand years ago."

"Sha're!" Daniel cried as he struggled against the restraining hands of MacCloud and Methos. Daniel's blue eyes held the shiny glazed look of one who wasn't really there. "Take me...Something of the host must remain."

Methos abruptly stumbled away from the delirious man as those words slipped from his lips. He felt the shocked stares of the others watching as the nearly unflappable oldest of the Immortals seemed to panic before their eyes. Daniel continued to rave in a mixture of languages as the eldest Immortal lay in a stunned sprawl on the floor. Memories rushed back to Methos one after another of his life before the Horsemen where, until now, his memories had begun. Abruptly, Methos scrambled back to Daniel's side. "The Chapa'ii," he said. "Daniel, the chapa'ii. Do you know where it is?"

"Stargate," Daniel mumbled.

"Yes, Daniel...the stargate," Methos confirmed. "Do you know where it is?"

"Under the mountain," Daniel mumbled.

"Under a mountain? That can't be right! We buried the thing in the desert not under a mountain." Methos protested though the delirious man on the bed couldn't understand. "Daniel, how did it get under a mountain?" Methos demanded. "Daniel, where is the chapa'ii? Have you opened it?" Methos shook the young archaeologist by his shoulders. "Daniel, have you opened it!?" Methos demanded.

"Adam, knock it off!" Joe growled as he pushed the ancient Immortal away from his nearly unconscious young friend. "What's gotten into you?"

"Leave be, Joseph!" Methos growled right back. "You don't know! If they've opened it..."

"Opened what, old man?" Duncan demanded.

Methos didn't answer though. Instead he stalked to the corner of the room sliding down to sit with his back tucked against the point where the two walls met. There he sat brooding for hours as he watched Joe tend to the delirious man in the bed who eventually quieted into fevered murmurs. Each of the rescuers and Raynor recognized some of the languages he spoke as Daniel continued to mumble incoherently. Methos understood more than the others though. He recognized the love words Daniel whispered to the unknown Sha're in a dialect lost thousands of years ago. A dialect lost, Methos knew, when the god Ra had emptied the city. Methos remembered and as the minutes ticked by more and more of his forgotten past returned. The past he now realized he had very deliberately chosen to forget almost as soon as the last of the goa'uld were driven from the planet and the chapa'ii buried deep in the sands of the desert. From those forgotten memories he recognized other words. Words spoken in the goa'uld tongue. He listened as Daniel told some unseen person that he was not a god. It might have been minutes or hours later when Daniel ordered "Jaffa, kree!" that Methos nearly jumped from his skin.

"You know what it is don't you?" Dr. Raynor suddenly demanded. "The chapa'ii. What is it?"

"Hasn't your curiosity caused enough trouble already, Dr. Raynor?" Adam asked quirking his eyebrow at the other man in a way that Mac and Joe recognized as Death coming out to play.

"Adam," Mac admonished sharply before Death's fun could start.

Methos shot them a disgruntled look then subsided back into his brooding contemplation of his former roommate. He wasn't listening to Daniel's fevered mutterings though. From a distant corner of his mind, Methos was listening to the sound of screams. For one who had once been Death and lived with the regrets and guilt of his actions, that wasn't so unusual, but for once it wasn't the screams of his victims Methos heard. The screams were his own.


	14. Chapter 14

The other three members of the search team followed Colonel O'Neill down the ramp of the C-130 they had hastily bummed a ride aboard from Andrews Air Force Base after their brief discussion with the customs agents in D.C. On the flight, they had each read over the information they had gathered so far hoping to see something the others had missed...some clue to what had happened to Daniel. Each had failed. O'Neill had then taken a seat at the rear of the jet as far from the others as possible and begun making phone calls. Carter had taken the opportunity to call Agent Barrett. The questions she asked of Barrett were mostly the same as the ones her CO was asking. The results were disappointingly similar as well. No one knew anything much about this group Daniel had somehow become involved in except rumors. SG-1 were desperate enough to listen to those rumors. They were some sort of lunatic fringe group though no one could say exactly what crazy ideas put them into that category. They had money, lots of it, and the political connections to go along with it. No one knew where the money came from though.

The four SGC members watched as a non-descript black SUV they assumed was their transport off-base rapidly approached the C-130. As it rolled to a stop beside the ramp darkened glass of the driver's side window lowered and a face familiar to O'Neill appeared in the open window.

"Hey, Jack" Burke greeted his former teammate as he draped an arm out the window. "Long time no see, huh?"

"Burke? What are you doing here?" Jack demanded as he hefted his duffel over his shoulder and walked toward the other man.

"You said you'd get me a better assignment," Burke reminded him.

"Yeah, but..." Jack protested with dumbfounded amazement that his small request had gotten Burke transferred from that dead end in South America to one of the premiere postings in the world.

"Relax, Jack" Burke ordered his former colleague rightly guessing the direction Jack's thoughts had taken. "You're not that well connected. They transferred me to the Ukraine, but when whatever this is came up they put me on a flight and transferred me here. So this is more weird shit like last time, right?"

"Daniel's been kidnapped," Jack explained as he hefted his duffel bag onto his shoulder.

"Does Jackson make a habit of getting himself kidnapped or what?" Burke asked as an amused grin played across his face.

"You have no idea," Jack muttered as he rounded the hood of the vehicle to climb into the passenger seat.

"We've traced the kidnappers to a private medivac flight into Heathrow," Carter explained as she opened the door behind Burke and threw her own duffel into the back before climbing into the SUV and scooting over to sit behind O'Neill.

"Yeah, I know," Burke interjected before she could continue. "I spoke with your General Hammond a few hours ago. He gave me the 411. I did a little snooping while I was waiting for you to land." He waited as Frasier slung her own bag into the rear then climbed into the center seat to be followed by Teal'c.

"And?" Jack demanded impatiently as soon as the door shut behind Teal'c.

"Their security is tight," Burke said. "They're set up in, get this, a frickin' castle. Walls are stone at least two feet thick. So the usual toys aren't going to be much help."

"Damn it!" Jack swore.

"Oh I ain't even gotten to the best part yet, Jack" Burke said. "Seems your Dr. Jackson may have already escaped."

"What!" Janet gasped from her position in the back seat. "That's very unlikely, Mr. Burke" she said. "Daniel had extensive injuries."

"Yeah, so I heard," Burke agreed pulling a small digital recorder out of his pocket. He plugged it into the auxiliary input in the SUV stereo then hit the button marked play on the small device. "Listen to this. I caught it off a couple sentries with the parabolic mic while I was scoping out that castle."

"I can't believe they got through our security so easily," a young male voice grumbled.

"Dawson didn't come alone," a second voice responded. "He brought MacCleod and those others with him. Just be glad no one is dead."

"MacCleod's a friggin' choir boy," the first voice protested angrily. "Of course no one was hurt. What I don't understand is why Pierson was with them."

"Pierson's not a Watcher anymore, and he and Jackson were roommates at university," the second voice explained. "Don't worry so. We'll find them. They can't hide forever. Jackson will need medical attention if they want to keep him alive. It's only a matter of time before we have Jackson back, and this time Dawson and Pierson have gone too far. They'll share Jackson's punishment."

"What about MacCleod and the others?" the young voice asked.

"Their interference can't be allowed to continue," the guard's voice suggested. "Horton would have approved of what's in store for them."

Burke clicked the recording off with one hand. "So what now?" he asked.

"Carter," Jack called over his shoulder as he flipped open his cell phone.

"Already on it, sir" she assured him listening to the ring of her own phone where it was pressed against her ear.


	15. Chapter 15

Minutes after Adam's outburst, Amanda and Nick removed Dr. Raynor from Daniel's makeshift sickroom leaving Mac and Joe to watch over the injured man and the one who watched him silently from the corner. Mac crouched next to Joe who had pulled a chair next to the military surplus cot on which Daniel lay. The two friends watched the corner where Methos sat hunched in a silent ball.

"I don' like this, Joe" Duncan admitted as he nervously watched Methos rock himself as he stared blindly into space.

"You and me both," Joe agreed also closely watching the oldest Immortal. "Anything that could scare the old man that bad..."

Mac nodded in agreement. He watched a minute longer then patted Joe's shoulder reassuringly as he stood. He walked slowly over to the corner where Methos sat. Duncan cautiously crouched down next to him. "Methos," he called softly. A minute passed with no answer from the ancient man. "Methos," Duncan repeated just a little louder and with slightly more force in his tone.

"I remember, MacCleod," Methos murmured quietly as he continued to rock.

"What do you remember?" Mac asked vaguely aware of Joe rising from his seat at Daniel's bedside and moving close.

"Everything," Methos answered as a tear slipped unnoticed down his face. "I remember where I was born. I remember my childhood. I remember becoming Immortal. I remember my first death. I remember everything I had forgotten, and I remember why I chose to forget."

"You _**chose**_ to forget?" Joe questioned incredulously.

"I forgot because it was too painful to remember, because I promised, and because I was the last," Methos murmured in reply. "The last to remember the rebellion. The last to remember the chapa'ii. The last to remember what it was and where we hid it. I forgot so no one could find it and use it again."

"And someone did anyway," Mac surmised. "Daniel and his Air Force friends."

"Yes, it appears so" Methos breathed quietly.

"How dangerous is it?" Mac asked, but Methos didn't answer him. From the expression on his face and the distant glazed look in his eye, Mac guessed his erstwhile friend was once again immersed in his newly regained memories. "Methos," Duncan gently prodded.

Methos found he couldn't answer though as his memories held him tight once again.

_He was a small boy working in silence alongside his father casting out the fishing nets that supplied their meager sustenance as the wind in the sail moved their small ship along the waters of the sea. The silence was suddenly broken from overhead as a group of giant metal birds swept down from the sky. Fire rained down on the small boat from the eyes of the metal bird. His father screamed as the fire struck his chest and he fell from their little boat. Hours later, the child Methos clung to a piece of the ship's hull staring at the body of his father floating among the debris when the monster rose from the sea. His small hands hit the creature as it pulled him beneath the waves._

_He was older now, a young man instead of small boy, and the creature who had pulled him from the sea now had a name, Omaroca. She had been mother and teacher to him for many years here in the safety of her undersea abode, but Methos was determined to leave that safety now. They fought bitterly often now over his wish to return to the surface to fight the goa'uld and hers to keep him safe. He wanted to exact revenge for the deaths of his birth family. To Omaroca, humans were frail creatures with such short lifespans, and Methos was still a mere infant to her no matter that among his own kind he was nearly a man grown. Besides, she argued, any rebellion now would be doomed to fail. Humans did not have the technology to defeat the goa'uld, and she did not have the capacity to arm them sufficiently herself. It would be many human lifetimes before a rebellion against the goa'uld would have a chance at success. _

_Finally, they reached a compromise that would allow Methos to get his revenge and Omaroca to keep the child of her heart with her. Methos would remain with Omaroca in her watery home and continue his education so that when he left to fight the goa'uld it would be as a warrior-leader and Lady Omaroca's general. In return, she would use her skill and knowledge to give him some of the gifts to which her own species were born. He would not age and his body would heal such that he would be nearly immortal. The changes would give him the time he needed to defeat the goa'uld no matter how long it took. The pain was unimaginable as Omaroca wrought her changes to his body. There was one other change Omaroca made, but he would not know of it for years to come upon his first meeting with a goa'uld. _

_More than three hundred years passed before Methos stood a step behind Omaroca as she spoke to a small gathering of dissidents urging them to join with her to oust the false gods. Only minutes into the meeting he heard it. The hard clank of metal boots marching in unison. They were betrayed!_

Methos snapped himself from the memories before they took him any farther. He was not ready to relive those memories. "Very," Methos finally answered MacCleod then added, "and it could not be in better hands." He knew Daniel and his Air Force friends were the ones who were meant to rediscover the chapa'ii. It was, after all, happening almost exactly as Daniel had told him it would when they had buried the Stargate in the first place.


End file.
